University of Virginia Library


89

THE SUMMERS OF THE LONG AGO.

“I sleep, but my heart waketh.”

When silence falls upon the solemn night,
And all in house and street is hushed and still,
Bright visions rise before my happy sight,
And come and go at will;
And days long fled,
Ghosts of the past, come to me from the dead.
And friends I see in dreams, as fair and sweet
As were the summers of the long ago,
When in the golden days we used to meet
And talk in voices low,
And often stand
Within the sphere of an enchanted land.
Awake, I die; in dreams, I live again,
For then return the joys were mine of old;
Ere hope had died, or love had grown to pain,
And left me sad and cold;
When all the hours
Were scented with the fragrant breath of flowers.

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So when the waking comes, it comes too soon,
For with it pass my bright and happy dreams;
My sun sinks suddenly; goes down at noon;
Leaving behind no gleams;
Gone is my spring,
And life once more becomes a wintry thing.
So would I dream, and wake, and dream again—
O love! O hope! come back a little while.
What though the wak'ning must be full of pain?
In blissful sleep I smile—
Come vanished years,
Let me dream still, although I wake to tears!